


guide me through the stars

by GenericUsername01



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 20 wips and counting WOO HOO, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Guide Spock, M/M, Sentinel Jim Kirk, Sentinel/Guide, Spirit Animals, anyway, do you get that this is a sentinel au yet, dramatic spock, jim and spock take simple things and make them complicated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-07-03 01:23:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15808461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenericUsername01/pseuds/GenericUsername01
Summary: A Sentinel is pretty much a useless, oversensitive mess without their Guide. In fact, unbonded Sentinels are barred from command entirely. They're too much of a liability without a Guide to ground them. If Jim wants to be a captain someday, he has to find his Guide first and place a bond in their head.Disclaimer: I know just enough about the Sentinel to think I can maybe write an au from it, so please forgive/correct any mistakes I make.





	1. Coming Online

Jim came online after the massacre on Tarsus, while he was out in the woods trying desperately to keep his kids alive. They were his tribe, and he was their Sentinel, and it was his job to protect them to his dying breath. There was nothing he wouldn't do, no line he wouldn't cross, no cost too great if it meant keeping his tribe alive and safe. He would do anything.  _Anything._

It was hell.

Because of course Tarsus wasn't shitty enough beforehand, no, now he had to go through it all with all his sense jackknifed up to ten and with no clue how to even begin controlling them.

The pain was... He doesn't think there are words for it. Not in Standard, at least. Maybe not in any language. But there were a lot of times when he thought the sheer force of the pain would kill him. When he thought no human could possibly feel this intensely and survive it.

But he does survive it, and Starfleet comes, and the colony burns to the ground and you can see the smoke for miles. He was out foraging when the ships arrived, separated from his kids. It takes three redshirts to restrain him, and they strap him down to a biobed and someone stabs him with a hypo.

The first thing he does when he wakes up is ask about his kids, demand to see them.

He is the only child who was rescued by the USS Grissom and they're very sorry, Mr. Kirk, but they can't disclose any more information that that.

He goes into a feral state and none of their tranquilizers work, the nurses and doctors are screaming, Jim is working his wrists bloody against the restraints, and they want to know if he is a Sentinel and he snarls that  _of course_ he's a Sentinel, he could not more clearly be a Sentinel--

\--And that's when they stab him with the special, unspeakably powerful tranquilizer designed to knock out feral Sentinels.

* * *

Spock came online during his kahs-wan, when I-Chaya died. He crawled to his feet, covered in sand, and went over to his pet to give him one last comfort, to ease his pain as he passed.

And he suddenly realized that he could feel that pain already, without a touch, without a meld.

Spock had always been a horribly curious child, so he tested further. He pushed gently into I-Chaya's mind, projecting soothing comfort, and he felt... he felt his pet's gratefulness in return. He felt I-Chaya's affection for him, his lack of regret.

The great sehlat told him without words that it had been worth it.

Spock had never been so awed in his life.

* * *

Spock discovers almost immediately after that that he is being followed by his spirit animal.

More precisely, it is weaving around his legs as if attempting to trip him.

He is somewhat dismayed that his spirit animal is a Terran creature. It is a felis silvestris catus, a black American shorthair.

It is a black cat. An incessantly curious black cat that is constantly getting into trouble because of it. It is stubborn and refuses to learn the error of its ways. In addition, it enjoys sunning itself and being petted far more than it has any right to. It can be quite dramatic and insistent when it desires for Spock to pet it.

It sometimes curls up in Amanda's lap and sleeps there, purring the whole while. Amanda is, of course, completely unaware of the ethereal spirit creature napping on her.

Spock scolds it for this one time-- even he is not sure why-- and it just blinks at him. It never meows. Spock does not know much about spirit creatures. It is entirely possible that they are capable of speech, but he will never know.

He does not believe the cat is an accurate representation of his katra.

He regrettably names her Reldai. She certainly acts like it, at least.

* * *

Empathy is different from telepathy and it's not meant to be shielded from, it's unhealthy for Spock to try to block out that part of him. He is a Guide. He is not meant to be alone in his own head. Guides need to feel the emotions of those around them the way that Vulcans need bonds to their loved ones.

But Spock can't shield his telepathy and un-shield his empathy.

He is only a touch telepath, though, his abilities in that regard pitiful and hardly worth noting in comparison to his empathy. And technically, it is not strictly necessary that he maintain shields at all times. He takes to only shielding when in physical contact with others, which is extremely rare due to Vulcan culture.

It is fortunate that he discovered his abilities when he did. A premarital bonding typically immediately follows one's kahs-wan, but it was cancelled in Spock's case. Attempting to force a bond between him and anyone who is not his Sentinel would force his Sentinel to come online violently, almost surely resulting in a comatose state and possibly even death.

Sometimes, when he thinks about what almost happened, what he almost did to his own Sentinel, a cold chill seeps down his spine, slow and insidious. He could have killed them. His blind following of a tradition he did not even like could have caused him to kill his own Sentinel.

The thought is abhorrent.

His particular skills require at least three hours of meditation every day. Spock has found that any less causes his empathy to flare to a wider radius and worse, makes it far more potent. He can feel others' emotions as strongly as if they were his own. With the overwhelming power of Vulcan emotions, it is debilitating. He tries shielding it, sometimes, but it causes an ache deep in his katra.

A Sentinel would prevent that.  _His_ Sentinel would prevent that. Somewhere out there is a mind perfectly suited to his own, his own personal safeguard, a sanctuary made perfect for him to nestle in. He could stay within his Sentinel's mind forever and it would be a protection to him. Things would not be half so overwhelming once they were bonded.

 _If_ they were bonded. There are two types of Guide/Sentinel bonds: one platonic and one romantic. Technically, only the platonic one is needed. Spock would be perfectly willing to content himself with that. However, there is the matter of pon farr. Spock  _cannot_ bond with another. If his Sentinel does not desire a romantic and sexual relationship with him, then he will die.

He meditates on this for long hours and reaches some conclusions. It would morally wrong to inform his Sentinel of this. It would coerce and manipulate them into a form of bond they do not want. When Spock's pon farr hits, either he will die in the plak tow or his Sentinel will die from Spock forming a marital bond with another. Logically, Spock should be the one to die. If death for one of them is unavoidable, then at least an additional rape isn't.

And that's exactly what it would be, too, if Spock were to put his Sentinel in a position where they felt they had no choice.

No. He will not inform his Sentinel of pon farr. If they desire him, then he will live, but if they do not, then he will die. Kaiidth.

It is illogical to worry about events that are mere possibilities. It is illogical to worry, period.

And yet.

* * *

Clothes hurt, make Jim's skin feel like it's on fire. He unfortunately doesn't have the means to wear only pure cotton and silk, though, so he just suffers. All food tastes and smells so incredibly strongly that he can't stand it, can't tolerate spice  _at all,_ and has to live off the blandest foods he can find. Moderately bright rooms sometimes feel like he's staring into the sun. He can hear the heartbeat of every person in any room he goes in, can hear them all screaming in his ears.

He learns to live with the constant throbbing pounding in his head.

You'd think hangovers would be a form of ungodly torture, but in actuality, his senses are already dialed up as far as they can go, to the point where it literally cannot get any worse even if he tried. It's Jim's own personal, constant hell.

He's in a bar full to the brim with cadets and spots a fellow Sentinel in the crowd, and a beautiful one, at that. He promptly hits on her.

The Sentinel-- Uhura-- is very clearly either still latent or already bonded, because the noise and jostling of the crowd isn't getting to her at all. Or maybe she's just infinitely batter than him at managing her abilities.

Or maybe she isn't a Sentinel at all and Jim is hallucinating that songbird spirit animal constantly fluttering around her. Maybe he's doped on something.

He's gonna hit on her either way.

She seems to be laughing at his expense and Jim's not really sure what happens, but suddenly some guy punches him in the face, which,  _ow._

But hyper pain sensitivity or no, there is a reason that mundanes don't pick fights with Sentinels. And maybe if Jim hadn't been so mind-numbingly drunk at that moment, he could have shown them that reason.

As it was, he got his face bashed in.

* * *

Pike takes one look at him and grabs both his hands. He speaks softly about things that it doesn't matter if Jim listens to or not. He projects calm and understanding and safety everywhere, dosing the whole room in it.

It pulls Jim out of the brink of zoning, his sense of touch brought to the forefront of his mind by the fight, the ache of bruises everywhere demanding his attention. But Pike pushes it all away, brings him back to reality.

And Jim feels calm.

Pike is the first Guide to do a grounding with him outside of ones called in by the hospital in emergency situations. Sometimes Jim zones out, gets lost completely in one sense until nothing else matters. All Sentinels do it.

But most Sentinels have a Guide to prevent it, or at least family and friends who can call for someone before it gets to the point of inducing a catatonic state.

Jim has no clue how to even begin expressing his gratitude, but Pike is a Guide, he has to feel it, and Jim is grateful for that too.

Then Pike starts in on his recruitment speech and, well. Despite his words, there was never really any question in Jim's mind.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fully open to suggestions about what Jim's spirit animal should be, because if I can't think of anything more in-character, then it's just gonna end up being a golden retriever or something
> 
> reldai = princess


	2. Academy

Jim could be honest. When he first saw his spirit animal on Tarsus, he tried to kill and eat him. It hadn't worked, and the little guy had just looked up at him sadly.

For a while, he had figured it was an hallucination, especially since none of the other kids could see him. But the dog didn't fade away over time, didn't leave his side for months and months, and eventually he accepted the truth of the matter. It was his spirit animal.

He named it Rover.

It was definitely a dog, but he had no clue what type. The way its fur looked sort of reminded him of a blond fox, to be honest. It would howl but never bark, and its wrists and neck were far more flexible than seemed natural. Jim was sure Rover would be able to open doors if he wanted.

When he got back in Iowa, he looked through lists and lists of various dog breeds and description, and found nothing. It took about a week to figure it out. Turns out Rover isn't  _technically_ classified as a real dog. He's a dingo. Despite the cute golden appearance, he's actually far more wolf than dog. Fiercely intelligent and protective, a predator not meant to be messed with or trivialized.

He's also like. The cuddliest thing. Jim has never met a dog this needy and affection-starved in his life.

All in all, Rover's a good boy. He likes belly rubs and running through the Iowa wheat fields. When Jim gets in bar fights, Rover sort of just sits there obediently and waits for him to be finished, so he's also a massive traitor, but still.

* * *

Jim gets on the shuttle, hits his head, greets Those Giants who beat him up last night, and takes his seat. An irate, drunk doctor soon takes the one next to him.

"I may throw up on you," he says, with the distinct air of a threat.

"I think these things are pretty safe," Jim said.

"Don't pander to me, kid," the doctor practically growls. "One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. A solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats. And wait 'til your sittin' pretty with a case of Andorian shingles. See if you're still so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding. Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence."

It was at this point that Jim noticed a porcupine crawl under the man's seat, cowering in terror and bristling with quills fully extended. His spirit creature, no doubt.

"Well, I hate to beak this to you, but Starfleet operates in space."

The porcupine might have hissed at him. Do porcupines hiss?

"Yeah, well I got nowhere else to go. The ex-wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. All I got left is my bones," he said, and knocked back a flask. He finally seemed to take in Jim's bloodstained appearance, and instantly offered the flask to him.

He took it amiably. "Jim Kirk."

"McCoy. Leonard McCoy."

And Bones did throw up on him, but also his spirit animal started to relax and came to sniff at Jim's feet and inspect him. Rover, of course, wanted to crawl into Bones's lap and stay there the whole ride, but Jim wouldn't let him.

As they were disembarking, Bones started on a vehement lecture on how they had to be roommates because Jim was a damn fool who clearly didn't know how to look out for himself. He goes on for ten minutes about how stupidly dangerous it was for him to accept a drink from a stranger he just met. He then attacks Jim's clothing choices, which is pretty fair, honestly, he hasn't changed in days and reeks of blood and alcohol.

Bones picks up his luggage but Jim has none to pick up. Bones frowns, but says nothing. He drops the rant about Jim's clothes.

* * *

"You named the dog  _Rover?_ Really?" Bones asked.

"Hey, you named your spirit animal-- which is a  _porcupine,_ by the way, I'm never letting go of that-- Arlene. So you really don't get to judge my naming choices," Jim said. "Besides, I named you Bones and that fits perfectly."

"You did not name me. Dear lord," he said. "And stop calling me that."

"Sure thing, Bones."

He glared at him.

* * *

Guides and Sentinels on Vulcan are rare, and it is just one more way in which Spock is different. Of course, they are rare among all species, typically making up less than 1% of the population. But on Vulcan, that number is 0.008%. It has been postulated that centuries of peace and stringent nonviolence has lowered Vulcan's true need for defenders such as Sentinels, and thus causing less of them to be born in modern times.

This is of course a completely illogical theory. Vulcan scientists are working to discover the true reason. It must be something in the environment, or perhaps culture, perhaps there are many latent Vulcan Sentinels and Guides that simply never come online. It surely cannot be natural selection.

With a population of six billion, 0.008% means there are 480,000 Sentinels and Guides.

Matriarch T'Pau is a Sentinel, an alpha, the most powerful alpha that Spock has ever met. Her spirit creature is a roaring mother le-matya.

It seems to believe that Reldai is its kitten, and cares for it as such. The first time Spock saw them interact, he was dumbfounded.

Spock is aware that he is an alpha too, as it was logical for T'Pau to inform him of such.

"You are a very powerful alpha," she said. "When I pass, along with my Guide, you and your Sentinel shall take over the defense of our clan. You shall bring great honor to your House. Your potential is vast, Spohkh. I expect much of you."

T'Pau instructs him in politics and combat and diplomacy. He is taught the history of the S'chn T'gai clan, the most powerful on Vulcan, and how the House of Surak has ruled over it in an unending dynasty for centuries. He learns that his Sentinel-Guide blood runs deep, that the House of Surak has never been without an alpha for long.

And now they have two and Spock wonders, sometimes, when reading about the great works she has done, if he will ever be able to measure up to T'Pau. He knows he cannot be as strong as her, surely, that she must be the superior alpha. A Sentinel would be able to sense it for sure, but Spock lacks the boldness and impudence to ask.

He knows the way his clan thinks of him and he wonders if he can even hold their respect.

And sometimes, he looks out to the stars and thinks maybe the clan of S'chn T'gai is not the tribe he is meant to protect after all. That maybe his true tribe is out there, somewhere, waiting for him. He feels almost this  _need_ to protect so many more than a rich clan of nobles living safely in their desert palaces.

Spock knows, if he had half the chance, he could do so much more.

* * *

"Live long and prosper," he said, and he turned his back on the council. His heart was hammering hummingbird fast in his side.

His father would never speak to him again. He knew that for sure. Barring the most extreme of circumstances, this was to be their last exchange.

He left the council chambers and went straight to the shuttle dock, Shi'Kahr's off-world transport. He purchases a ticket bound for Earth and comms Captain Pike on the way, letting him know that he will be attending the Academy and to expect him in San Francisco.

He gets a comm from his mother the next day and she is crying and demanding explanations, and Spock finds that all he has to give is inadequate.

A week later, she sends him boxes of his belongings, padds and scrolls and robes and sweaters, his ka'athyra, the quilt she made him when he was twelve. He comms her immediately to express his gratitude, and Amanda is much calmer this time. She says she'll support him no matter what, and that she expects to be called weekly, no ifs ands or buts.

Spock agrees readily.

* * *

Even before he graduates, Captain Pike has already claimed Spock as his future Chief Science Officer. His Sentinel, known only to Spock as Number One, is to be his First Officer.

"Some people take issue with a Guide having a higher rank than their Sentinel," the man said. "There's this old-fashioned idea that the Sentinel has to be the dominant one in the relationship, in every single way. That's not really how it works though, kid, and don't let anybody tell you any different. You're on track to high places. If your Sentinel ends up taking orders from you, then there's nothing wrong with that. Don't hold yourself back because some idiots get uncomfortable with a powerful Guide, okay?"

"You presume that my Sentinel is in Starfleet," Spock said.

"Sentinels are biologically driven to protect their tribes. So are Guides, but in a different way. You end up with lots of Sentinels in the military or police forces, paramedics and firemen and of course, 'Fleet officers. Sentinels physically protect and defend their tribes, while Guides care for them. I don't need to tell you how many Guides end up becoming doctors. And psychologists and biomedical researchers and teachers.

"Starfleet is a force for peace, protecting the Federation through humanitarian, diplomatic means. It's practically a Guide and Sentinel magnet. I can't tell you how many officers I've seen meet their match by getting assigned together. These things just tend to happen. So yeah, Spock," he said. "I'm assuming an alpha like you has their Sentinel in the service."

 

 

 


	3. Spock the Damn Fool Guide

Jim entered Pike's office for a meeting and instantly knew he was screwed.

It was just a standard meeting about academic advisor-y stuff, so he figured it was fine if he didn't actually pay attention.

There was a scent in the room. Jim had never smelled anything even close to it before. It was completely, utterly addictive and he knew right then and there that he was already hooked. He would never get enough of that scent. Could never.

It wasn't even something he could describe, it had no absolutely no comparisons. Jim could spend his entire lifetime trying to place it, and he'd never succeed.

He wanted to drown in the scent, wrap his very essence in it, find the source and rub it all over himself.

He latched onto it like a bloodhound, determined to never ever let it go.

* * *

His vision was the first sense to come back. He saw Pike's concerned face, his mouth forming words he couldn't hear. He looked down and saw his hands were being held, Pike's thumbs moving in circles, hoping he would feel the sensation, but he didn't.

"--irk? Are you coming back to me?"

He tried to say something, but you sort of need sensation in your tongue in order to talk, so it didn't actually work.

Pike was grounding him empathically, he realized, acting as a Guide for him. But he wasn't  _his_ Guide, and Jim shoved his hands away as soon as he could, feeling mad and on edge for no good reason.

Pike went back to his seat. "You okay, kid? That was a pretty bad zone out there."

"I'm fine," he snapped. Pike just raised an eyebrow at him, and for some reason that both calmed and infuriated him. He sighed. "Your office smells."

"You're far from the only Sentinel I meet with, Kirk, and this place is cleaned within an inch of its life every night with water-based everything because of that. It hasn't given any other Sentinels any problems."

Pike could frequently be seen around campus with a cloud of young, unbonded Sentinels trailing after him like ducklings, drawn to his strong Guide presence as a poor substitute for their own Guides.

Jim scowled, wishing desperately that he was bonded and could just turn his sense of smell off entirely. A Sentinel is pretty much a useless, oversensitive mess without their Guide. In fact, unbonded Sentinels are barred from command entirely. They're too much of a liability without a Guide to ground them. If Jim wants to be a captain someday, he has to find his Guide first and place a bond in their head.

He prefers a platonic bond, personally. Everyone always goes on about how great and fulfilling a romantic relationship between bondmates is, but the idea of the bond itself is scary enough, thank you.

He will be drawn to his Guide no matter what, an almost physical pull. Some mistakenly label this as attraction, but the pull exists in even platonic Guide-Sentinel relationships. It's simply a desire for closeness, for the touch of your perfect counterpart, in whatever form that may take.

"Maybe it's the air freshener," he said. Pike gave him a dry look.

* * *

Jim wakes from a nightmare straight into a zone, lost on the taste of smoke and dirt and death heavy in the air.

It's touch this time, the feel of Bones's hands rubbing sensation back into his arms, his calm, caring, Guide mind essentially pushing love at him. Jim snuggles into it, physically and psychically. 

A weight behind his back and around his shoulders, warmth wrapping around him from all angles, the softness of his pajamas and blankets against his skin.

Then sound, Bones's southern accent smooth and slow and making him feel warm inside. His other senses follow soon after that.

"I'm here," Jim said. He curled up further against his friend, tucking his head against his neck. "I'm here now."

Bones continues rubbing his hand in soothing circles along Jim's back, presses a kiss into his hair.

"Bones," he said. "I think you're my Guide."

"I'm not your Guide, kid."

"I wish you were," he said. "You're the best. You're literally the most perfect Guide ever. Whoever mine is can't possibly be as good as you, and your Sentinel doesn't deserve you."

"Kid, if I didn't think it would kill two people, I'd form a platonic bond with you right here and now. Believe me, I don't trust anyone with taking care of you other than myself. Whoever your damn fool Guide is, they're gonna have to answer directly to me."

"Why is my Guide a damn fool?"

"'Cause you need 'em now and they ain't here," he said simply.

Bones fell asleep first, still holding Jim, but Jim's sleep was a long time coming after.

* * *

Spock knows that Kirk is his Sentinel the moment he comes within psionic range of him.

He briefly contemplates mentioning it, as surely this is a conflict of interest, but it is already too late, he's being called to the stand. It would be morally reprehensible to drop the charges merely due to personal investment. And so he continues.

"Cadet Kirk, you somehow managed to install and activate a subroutine in the programming code, thereby changing the conditions of the test."

"Your point being?" Kirk asks, because apparently he's one of  _those_ Sentinels: brash, cocky, thinks he's invincible and is bound to get himself killed because of it. Spock has known him for less than a minute and he can already tell that a certain level of firmness will be required in his protection of Kirk.

"In academic vernacular, you cheated," Admiral Barnett said.

"Let me ask you something I think we all know the answer to," Kirk said. "The test itself is a cheat, isn't it? You programmed it to be unwinnable."

"Your argument precludes the possibility of a no-win scenario."

Kirk smirked. Spock felt his pride bubble up, as attuned to him as he was. "I don't believe in no-win scenarios."

If Spock wasn't already certain this Sentinel would get himself killed one day, then he was now.

"Then not only did you violate the rules, you also failed to understand the principal lesson."

"Please, enlighten me."

"You of all people should know, Cadet Kirk. A captain cannot cheat death."

His Sentinels' pride withered away, replaced with some small, cold feeling. Spock didn't like it. "I of all people?"

"Your father, Lieutenant George Kirk, assumed command of his vessel before being killed in action, did he not?"

Spock did not enjoy this, but it was important that his Sentinel understood. He needed to know that life was fragile and meant to be treasured. He needed to know that he could not go charging headlong into unwinnable situations and simply expect them to work themselves out. Spock would not allow him to simply  _die,_ due to foolhardy recklesslness, no less.

"I don't think you like the fact that I beat your test," he said, as if that was all that he was gleaning from the very important words that Spock was saying.

"Furthermore, you have failed to divine the purpose of the test."

"Enlighten me again."

"The purpose is to experience fear, fear in the face of certain death, to accept that fear and maintain control of oneself and one's crew. This is a quality expected in every Starfleet captain."

Spock does not like the emotions radiating from his Sentinel, who is continually making small, strange little movements. He does not appear to be quite fully there.

Is he on the edge of zoning? Perhaps Spock should--

They receive a distress signal.

* * *

Jim smells The Scent again during the academic hearing and it's literally all he can do to even respond to Spock's questions. He's gripping the podium in front of him with white knuckles, forcing himself to stare at various things, doing everything he can to notice his other senses and keep from zoning.

He's so relieved when they get the distress call that he's sure every Guide in the room felt it.

Then his name doesn't get called for any ship and Bones stabs him with a hypo.

"Ow! Hey, what happened to Guides being unable to harm Sentinels? Thought it was hardwired into your genetic code." The exact same way that Sentinels are incapable of harming Guides.

"This isn't harm. This is favor. You owe me," Bones said. "You're gonna start to lose vision in your left eye."

"Yeah, I already have," he said quietly. It's the first time in ten years that any of his senses have been less than mind-numbingly perfect.

"Oh, and you're gonna get a really bad headache and flop sweat."

As if Jim's capable of getting a  _worse_ headache.

Bones grabs him by the shoulders and drags him to the shuttle.

 

 


	4. Lost and Found

Bones is literally chasing him through the ship with hypos.

"Jim! I'm not kidding! We need to keep your heart rate down."

"Computer, locate crewmember Uhura." It does, and he starts running again. "We're flying into a trap!"

"Dammit Jim, hold still!"

He does not. He runs faster, and the Guide is at a loss to keep up.

"Uhura! Uhura--"

"Kirk?! What are you doing here?" she asked.

"The transmission from the Klingon prison planet. What exactly--"

"Oh my god, what is wrong with your hands?!"

Bones finally caught up-- stupid fucking Sentinel with his stupid enhanced everything, though at least the physical abilities were only marginally so-- and scans and hypos him simultaneously.

His breath catches for half a second but he doesn't have time for that right now.

"It's-- Look, who is responsible for the Klingon attack? And was the ship--"

He gets numb tongue.

* * *

Spock sees his Sentinel rush onto the bridge, accompanied by Nyota and an unbonded Guide.

An unbonded Guide who stands very close to Kirk and keeps touching him.

The man glances at Spock in confusion and he immediately clamps down on his emotions, projecting utterly nothing in that way that alienates so many Guides across other species to Vulcans.

Kirk is screaming about a trap and wants to  _halt the rescue to Spock's home planet._

Spock had never before realized it was possible to feel animosity towards one's own Sentinel. He supposed he should have expected that, logically, the bond does not alter thought patterns in any way, much less dampen a being's emotional capacity.

He explains his logic and Spock does not want it to be sound but it is, and Pike throws the shields up, and Vulcan is the site of carnage when they arrive.

* * *

"I need officers who've been trained in advanced hand-to-hand combat," Pike said.

Sulu raised his hand, like a child in school. "I have training, sir."

"Come with me," he said. "Kirk, you too. You're not supposed to be here anyway."

"Captain, I object," Spock said.

"...Why?"

"If the cadet lacks sufficient training, then it is not logical to send him on this mission."

"Oh no, he has plenty of training, believe me."

And then Pike, Kirk, and Sulu started to move towards the turbolift, and a sharp thread of panic wove through Spock.

"Nevertheless," he said. "I volunteer to go in Kirk's place."

Pike looked at him strangely, frowning, and Kirk seemed downright confused.

"No," Pike said. "Stay here and mind the ship, Spock. That's an order."

* * *

The Scent had been on the Enterprise when he first got there, but absent in medbay. Then of course, it was suffocating in intensity on the bridge, right when Jim needed to focus the most. Jim mostly just wanted to get a lock on the scent and fucking embed himself in it.

Then it's blessedly gone during the space jump and lunging after Sulu when he fell was never even a question, Jim  _h_ _ad_ to do it, the same way he had to breathe.

The Scent is thick in the transporter room, then dissipates to a lingering awareness, then it's back full force and Jim finally connects the dots. The Scent is coming from Spock. It's fucking  _Spock,_ and Jim wants to fuck him against the wall and lick him all over.

Then he sees how heartbroken the guy looks, hand extended to reach out for something-- someone-- who isn't there.

* * *

Nyota is a latent Sentinel and Spock is a Guide and her friend. She listens to him record the world's most depressing captain's log that command will have no clue what do with, and then she follows him into the turbolift.

And yeah, she abandoned her post, but Spock did too and he didn't even bother to hand over the conn. The fact that he's too distressed to even reprimand her just proves that she was right to do this.

"I'm sorry," she said. She wants to cry, but she holds herself back, doing her best to rein in her emotions. Spock's feeling enough of his own, he doesn't need to be bombarded with hers on top of things. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She hugs him, arms loose around his neck and careful not to touch his skin, but he surprises her and buries his face in her neck, clutching at her like a lifeline.

"What do you need? Tell me," she said. "Tell me."

He restarts the turbolift, and his eyes are wet with tears. "I need everyone to continue performing admirably."

Nyota feels  _lost,_ and she knows she couldn't possibly have protected Spock from this, but every instinct she has is screaming that she should have. So she nods and agrees and she lets Spock walk away.

* * *

His Sentinel does not seem to comprehend that he is not the captain, Spock is. He refuses to follow orders, to even listen to orders. Spock is reminded of his conversation with Captain Pike about the assumed dominance of Sentinels. All loyalties aside, Spock will not allow this mission to be compromised by an upstart Sentinel who refuses to take orders from his Guide.

He is unfortunately aware of Kirk's criminal record and has little confidence that throwing him in the brig would not be a mere pit stop for him before he managed to break out, and so he leaves him on Delta Vega instead, where Kirk will be perfectly safe and unable to create trouble until this mission is over and Spock comes back to get him.

* * *

The Scent is all over Old Spock in the cave too, because of course it is, but somehow it seems less intense on him. Less overwhelming. And what's even better is that it doesn't Jim an immediate urge to jump his bones, which is great, because that would be super weird.

And then he's back on the Enterprise and Scotty is in a water filtration tube and Cupcake is taking far too much pleasure in dragging them up to the bridge at phaserpoint.

Jim at least knows now to brace himself for the overload of sensation before they get up there. Bright lights and flashes and beeping and chatter and all of it will be completely soaked in the intoxicating scent of Spock. Jim knows this part isn't gonna be fun, but still, he can't seem to help the feeling of anticipation he gets, just at the idea of being near Spock again.

Which is pretty pathetic, even for him.

Spock walks straight up to them, and god, Jim's definitely going to zone. "Who are you?"

"I'm with him."

"He's with me."

"We are travelling at warp speed. How did you manage to beam aboard this ship?"

"You're the genius. You figure it out."

"As Acting Captain of this vessel, I order you to answer the question."

"Well I'm not telling, Acting Captain," Jim said, with all the maturity of a five-year-old. "What, did... That doesn't frustrate you, does it? My lack of cooperation? That doesn't make you angry?"

He turns to Scotty. "Are you a member of Starfleet?"

"I-- Yes. Can I get a towel, please?"

"Under penalty of court martial, I order you to explain to me how you were able to beam aboard this ship while moving at warp."

"Well--"

"Don't answer him," Kirk cut in.

"You will answer me."

"...I'd rather not take sides."

"What is it with you, Spock?" Kirk asked, stepping even closer to him. Probably a horrendously bad idea, in hindsight. "Your planet was just destroyed, your mother murdered, and you're not even upset."

"If you are presuming that these experiences in any way impede my ability to command this ship, you are mistaken."

"And yet, you are the one who said fear is necessary for command. I mean, did you see his ship? Did you see what he did?"

"So are you afraid or aren't you?"

"I will not allow you to lecture me about the merits of emotion."

"Then why don't you stop me?"

"Step away from me, Mr. Kirk."

"What is it like not to feel anger? Or heartbreak? Or the need to stop at nothing to avenge the death of the woman who gave birth to you?"

"Back away from me."

"You feel  _nothing!_ It must not even compute for you. You never loved her!"

Spock screamed and curled in on himself and sent out a psionic pulse of agony and rage that sent the whole bridge crew to their knees. People gasped and cried out and fell to the ground clutching at their heads with tears streaming down their faces.

Kirk was on the floor, shuddering, breathing ragged. He hadn't expected that.

McCoy was the first to recover. He rushed over to Spock, who was lying completely prone and unconscious. He shoved two fingers onto his pulse point, face grim.

"Shit," he said, snapping open his comm. "I need emergency medical to the bridge. Bring a hover stretcher and a hypo full of 50 ccs of corpalinizone."


	5. Sentinel Uhura

Nyota gives a gasp and a choked-off sob and Jim knows he's watching her come online right then and there.

"Shit," he says, scrambling to his feet. "Someone check the personnel files. I need a Guide brought up the bridge, stat."

"Sir, we only have two Guides on board, Captain Spock and Dr. McCoy," Sulu said.

"Spock's a Guide?" he asked. He shook his head. "Nevermind. Page medbay. McCoy to the bridge, now."

His voice comes crackling through the comm.  _"Jim, the fuck. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm a bit busy cleaning up your last mess."_

"Is Spock going to die if you, personally, don't attend to him in the next ten minutes?"

_"...No."_

"Get up here, then. We have a Sentinel coming online and you're the only Guide available."

McCoy cursed and cut the link. He was up on the bridge in less than a minute. He didn't bother to ask any questions or even do a scan, just when straight to Nyota and supported her, grabbing both of her hands and whispering right next to her ear. Her eyes widened impossibly further.

 _"Guide,"_ she breathed.

"Sentinel," he said reverently.

She relaxed into his hold and turned around just enough to cup his jaw and kiss him, the poignant, cherished first touch of future bondmates.

But Jim had serious doubts as to how grounded she actually was, because Nyota got this look in her eye like she wanted to push Bones down and have him right there on the floor of the bridge, but instead she tore herself away and stood up, brushing down her uniform. Jim was impressed. Given the circumstances, she should be a sobbing, keening mess right now, refusing to let go of her newfound Guide for even a second.

But apparently Nyota Uhura had an iron will and professionalism in spades. Jim gained a whole hell of a lot of respect for her in that moment.

She did clutch onto Bones's arm as soon as he stood up, though. Her eyes flicked to Jim, and then to Rover at his side.

"Always knew you were a dog, Kirk," she said.

Jim's jaw dropped. "Really? You come online and  _that's_ the first thing you have to say to me?"

"What did you expect, O King Alpha Kirk?"

"Well--"

"Not to interrupt your little Sentinel dominance games or anything," Bones said. "But we  _both_ need to get down to medbay. And thanks to this dumbass here, the ship now has no captain and no goddamn first officer to replace him."

"Yes it does," Jim said, and took his seat in the captain's chair.

"What?"

"Pike made him first officer," Sulu said.

"You gotta be kidding me!"

"Thanks for the support," Jim said. "Attention crew of the Enterprise..."

* * *

All starships' medbays have a completely sealed private hospital room, essentially: soundproof and lined with telepathic dampeners and mild-smelling oils to block out other scents. Leonard left Nyota in there with the lights at 2% so that she could rest and get used to her new senses.

And then he got to work trying to empathically drag Spock back into consciousness. Would've been a hell of a lot easier if the man wasn't stubborn as a mule.

He got the man up and at 'em and then immediately declared him to be emotionally compromised by the mission at hand and  _definitely_ unfit for duty. Then he went to the bridge to go yell at Jim.

But of course that stubborn hobgoblin broke out of medbay and showed up there too. Leonard was gonna tan his hide.

"Doctor," Spock greeted, possibly just to be petty, as he had to sense Leonard's anger. "Mr. Chekov is correct. I can confirm his telemetry. If Mr. Sulu is able to maneuver us into position, I can beam aboard Nero's ship, steal back the black hole device and, if possible, bring back Captain Pike."

"I won't allow you to do that, Mr. Spock," Jim said.

"Yeah, neither will I," Bones cut in.

"Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestry. Our cultural similarities will make it easier for me to access the ship's computer to locate the device," he said. "Also, my mother was human, which makes Earth the only home I have left."

Goddammit, Leonard couldn't argue with that.

Jim stepped forward. "Then I'm coming with you."

"I would cite regulation, but I know you will simply ignore it."

Jim smirked. "See? We are getting to know each other."

* * *

After everything finally settled down and Earth and the Federation at large was saved, Leonard went back to the private room in medbay to check up on his Sentinel.

He wasn't really sure what he was expecting. The lights still down at 2% percent, Uhura curled up in a ball on the biobed? But what he actually got was the lights raised to 30% and his Sentinel on her feet, instantly turning to face him.

She was stark naked and looking at him like he was prey.

"We should talk about this first," he said.

"My clothes felt like fire," she said. "The only thing I want touching me is  _you."_

"What's your name?" he asked, and that seemed to jar her, make her a bit more aware of the reality of the situation.

"Nyota Uhura," she said.

"Leonard McCoy. Pleasure to meet you," he said.

"I..." she breathed out. "I want to bond."

"It's common for Sentinels to be overwhelmed by that drive at first, especially if they come online in the presence of their Guide. But you need to be absolutely sure about this if a romantic bond is what you want."

It was sure as hell what Leonard wanted. He had known the second he felt her mind, that he wanted everything he could possibly have with her. He wanted a lifetime, with his mind linked to hers, and he didn't want anybody else to ever touch either of them. And the sight of her standing naked before him with clear intent was... encouraging things.

She frowned. "What are you talking about? You don't  _choose_ what type of bond you get. You meet your destined and find out."

Now Leonard frowned. They didn't exactly teach this stuff in school. But what she said  _felt_ right. It felt like truth, and he knew that with both of them wanting a romantic bond, a platonic one wouldn't last long anyways.

"Take off your clothes," she commanded. She leaned back against the edge of the biobed and folded her arms, clearly ready to watch.

Leonard huffed, but he did as he was told, taking off his clothes nice and slow. But then Nyota started touching herself, as if she wasn't enough of a sight already, and he cursed and sped up, already hard by this point.

She pushed him down onto the biobed and climbed on top, straddling him. She flashed him a wicked look and sank down onto his cock, making both of them groan.

* * *

"Mr. Kirk. I believe there is a matter of personal import which we must discuss," Spock said.

"Oh. Yeah, shit, Spock, I am so sorry. I didn't mean anything that I said on the bridge last week, I swear. I just, uh... an old friend told me I had to show you were emotionally compromised."

"Did this 'old friend' happen to be my older counterpart?"

Jim gasped, and looked around frantically. He latched onto Spock's arms, as if readying to protect him from some unseen danger.

"Mr. Kirk?" he asked.

"I'm waiting for the universe to explode," he explained. "I think your older self lied to me, Spock."

"Indeed, it would appear he did," Spock said dryly. "The universe's looming end aside, that was not the matter I wished to discuss."

"Oh. Right. I am a dumbass and an asshole and if you want to bring me up on charges, that's totally chill."

"Bring you up on charges of what?"

"I don't know. I'm sure you can think of something," he said confidently.

Spock frowned. "This is also not what I wished to discuss. Though we will be discussing it later."

"Ah." Sounds so fun. Jim supposes he deserves that, for Spock to let the dread build up before he calls him out on every flaw his character has and then informs him they will never be speaking again. He's probably going to wait until they get back to Earth, and then he'll walk away and Jim will never see him again, not even in passing.

Spock Prime said they would have an epic friendship together. His own orders prevented that from ever happening. It makes Jim get this sad, cheated little feeling in his chest if he thinks about it too long.

"You are my Sentinel."

His heart crumbled like ash.

"I'm sorry."

Spock frowned. "For what?"

"For being your Sentinel," he said. "You deserve one that you don't hate."

"I do not hate you."

"Right," he said. Of course. That would be an emotion.

Great, and now he's accused a Vulcan of having emotions. He knows they hate that.

"So..."

"Would you prefer a platonic or romantic bond?"

"Oh, we're going to bond?"

"I would assume so," Spock said, still frowning deeply. "Bonds are necessary to the health of both Guides and Sentinels. However, if you prefer your unbonded state, we can forego this. It will require us never meeting again, however."

"Do  _you_ want a bond?" he asked. Then he realized that was a stupid question. "With me, I mean?"

"I do," he said. "But I will not pressure you into one. If you do not desire a bond, please be honest and state so immediately."

"No, I desire a bond," he said. "It's just-- are you sure? You want a bond? With me?"

"I can have no other, Mr. Kirk."

He cringed. "Sorry. I really didn't mean all of that stuff I said."

"I am aware of that now," he said. "My previous question remains. Since you do desire a bond, I require that you tell me which type."

Jim worried at his bottom lip. Spock found it distracting.

He looked up at him with crystalline, cobalt eyes, as if he meant to hold Spock in place with the sheer force of his gaze alone. "I want a platonic bond," he said, carefully hopeful.

And with that, he sealed Spock's death sentence.

"Very well," he said.


	6. Foolishness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sheekuya na'na = Vulcan tea described as orange-mint, iced, and served cold  
> ch'aal = Vulcan spice tea, a rare delicacy made from a purple leafy plant that grows only on Vulcan  
> Va'Pak = "the Immeasurable Loss," the destruction of Vulcan

A romantic bond is formed after a full imprinting process and a handful of orgasms-- or more. It varies between pairs. Bones and Nyota were locked in that isolation room for almost four entire days.

But a platonic bond is different. It just sorta... happens. Scientists know almost nothing about it. Platonic bonds are extremely rare in the first place and there's so much variance between pairs that there doesn't seem to be any pattern at all.

It's a three week journey back to Earth while crawling along at impulse, because Komack insists they can't spare a single ship to come by and tow them. Those three weeks are insane, and neither Jim nor Spock have any real freetime. It's all filled with briefings and reports and repair efforts and grim visits with the Vulcan elders and reports and the normal effort of running a starship and more reports.

Then they get back to Earth and they can finally breathe (somewhat) while the Enterprise is being repaired in earnest, by engineers who actually have the resources to really do something for it.

Jim is over at Spock's place constantly, and they're both doing everything they can to encourage a bond. Jim takes him out to the movies, and then shows him better ones back at home. They debate over politics and particle physics and whether the Dewey decimal system is truly the most efficient way to organize Spock's bookcase. Spock cooks them Vulcan food, and Jim goes nuts over it, because every single recipe is super bland and it doesn't overwhelm his senses once.

They go out with friends. Spock learns to play poker. They work on overseeing the ship together with a casual harmony that's almost shocking. They play 247 games of chess. They get desperate enough to talk about their feelings and childhoods. Jim practically moves into Spock's apartment. Months have passed. They research bonding techniques. They try mind melding. They take time off to perform an experiment where they remain constantly within each other's presence for over seventy-two hours.

"Maybe you aren't really my Guide," Jim suggested.

"We are both aware that is not true."

"Yeah, well then why haven't we been able to form a bond yet? I feel like I know you better than I know myself at this point. The longest a met pair took to form a platonic bond was five weeks. Ever. In all of recorded history. And they didn't even spend most of that time with each other."

"Indeed, the situation is curious."

Jim hummed. "Do you think something's wrong with us?"

Spock opens his mouth, but then pauses to consider. "Perhaps."

* * *

"My diagnosis is chronic stupidity," McCoy said. "Incurable and likely fatal."

"Bones," Jim said. "Seriously. What's wrong with us?"

"I'm being serious. You two idiots are trying to force a platonic bond that you aren't meant to have, and anyone with functioning eyes can see that. Normally, I'd say you're wasting my time coming to me with this nonsense, but I think you two really are so stupid that you need to be told this."

"I object," Spock said. "The captain does not desire a romantic bond and I will not force one upon him."

"And you, Spock? What do you want?" McCoy asked, folding his arms.

"My wants and desires are irrelevant, as I will not take the unwilling."

"See, Jim? You're being an idiot."

"What?" he asked.

"Spock wants a romantic bond."

"I did not say that."

"Yeah, and you didn't deny it either, and I'm betting you never actually said you wanted a platonic bond."

"What?" Jim asked again. "Spock, is this true?"

"The doctor's statement holds a minor degree of veracity only within the barest and most technical of senses."

"Could just say 'yes,'" Bones griped. "But I suppose you were hoping we wouldn't even understand that sentence, weren't you?"

Spock at least had the decency to look shame-faced.

* * *

They went home-- and when had Spock's apartment become home?

Jim's insatiable lust for Spock had actually been addressed before, several times. Spock was a Guide, he could of course sense it. Mostly those conversations had just been Jim apologizing for being a randy human Sentinel and Spock saying that apologies were unnecessary as it did not make him feel uncomfortable.

Jim had previously assumed that was a Vulcan thing. Of course Spock didn't "feel" uncomfortable. And if he did, he would never admit it.

Now, though. Now he was thinking there was a different explanation.

Spock moved into the little kitchenette and began preparing tea for both of them. Should be an Earth blend this week. They were working their way through all forms of tea in the galaxy, as Jim had insisted was necessary. Spock still liked that Vulcan sheekuya na'na best, followed by some thick, sugary Andorian concoction that really shouldn't count as tea. Jim, personally, was developing a taste for a variety of Earth blends.

Spock insisted that the best tea in the entirety of the galaxy was ch'aal. It would have been difficult and expensive to procure on Earth even before the Va'Pak. Now, it was impossible.

"We don't have to do anything," Jim blurted out. "I mean. Not right away. Or ever, really, I don't wanna force you into anything. We can both just part ways and pretend we never met. Go on to live completely normal lives."

"If that is what you desire," Spock demurred.

"God." Jim sat down heavily at the kitchen table, drawing his cup of tea close to him. "Okay. So I'm thinking this conversation needs, like... rules."

Spock said nothing. Jim cleared his throat.

"Rule #1: You must state your opinions honestly."

"I object."

_"Why?"_

"This seems like an invasion of my privacy."

"Spock, we are talking about bonding our fucking souls together."

"A Sentinel-Guide bond is hardly a true soulbond in the manner that Vulcans understand it. A Sentinel-Guide pair merely hormonally imprint on each other and have moderate effects on each others' brain chemistry. A Vulcan pair bonding allows for background empathic awareness, or, as in the case of a marital bond, full telepathic and empathic sharing."

"Wait, really?"

Spock nodded.

"Okay," Jim said. "Okay, so if we did this, if we went all in, the first step would be our Sentinel-Guide bonding, right? And that's got legal status as a semi-marital arrangement anyway. But we can only form a romantic bond. So this, this would be it for us. Both of us, for life. Right? Can you agree with me on that?"

He nodded.

"Okay." Jim breathed out. "All in. So after we do that, we may as well get human- and Vulcan-married too, right?"

"Jim, your logic is faulty in the extreme," Spock said. "First of all, we are not required to do this. If you are so uncertain and distressed over it, then I refuse to participate. Second of all, even if we did bond, there is absolutely no reason why we should also wed in the ways of our people immediately after. We would have the agency to set our timetable in that regard, and take the appropriate steps if or when we felt ready. Third of all, human marriage is an empty financial arrangement that I find purposeless and vaguely insulting to such a holy institution."

Jim laughed. "Okay then. No human marriage for us."

"Indeed not."

"Spock," he said, sobering. "You have to be honest with me.  _Please._ I just wanna know what's actually going on with you. Do you want a romantic bond with me?"

"Of course," he said.

Jim slumped back in his seat. "Thank God."

"May I make a personal query?" Spock asked.

"Of course. Anything."

"I realize that you require a bond in order to achieve a command post. I am the only Guide with which you are capable of doing so. Admiral Komack has tapped you for command of the Enterprise, but with the provided stipulation that you must form a bond with me first, or otherwise you will be deemed too unstable for the post and it will be passed on to myself."

Jim frowned. He didn't know what to expect here but he didn't like it.

"I realize I am not desirable as a mate, and for that, I apologize. I would ask if your association with me has existed solely for the advancement of your career, or if you perceive any external value in our acquaintanceship."

"God." Jim stood abruptly, coming around the table to meet him and reaching out to take Spock's hands, then catching himself and settling on his shoulders instead. "Spock. Listen to me. You're my  _friend,_ and nothing would change that, and I'd still be your friend if you weren't my Guide and I wasn't your Sentinel and we were both mundanes. I like to think that we'd always be friends, in every universe we met in, no matter what the circumstances. I value you as a person. And like hell you aren't desirable as a mate; you are literally the best possible mate anyone could ever hope to have, and anyone who wouldn't be honored to put their name beside your own is an  _idiot._ Not to mention that I  _desire_ you inappropriately just about all the damn time."

He leered, trying to lighten the mood, and was met with a dry look and a raised eyebrow. Jim grinned.

"God, Spock, I--" He shook his head. "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have. I am  _honored_ to call myself your Sentinel. Anything else that happens because of that is just extra. And if you'll have me, I'd love to bond with you," he said. "But if you aren't ready, then screw Komack. There'll be other postings and other ships. This is about us."

"Jim," he said. "I have been ready to take you as a mate since I have found you."

"Really?" he asked. "You know that... involves sex, right?"

Another dry look. "I am aware."

He smiled, and now he did take Spock by the hands, urging him to his feet. "Well then, Mr. Spock," he said. "Let's get right on that, shall we?"


End file.
